


Brighter Now

by winterwaters



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23622262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwaters/pseuds/winterwaters
Summary: Cassian discovers Nesta still has some bad days with the bathtub and resolves to help.ACOMAF and ACOFAS spoilers.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81





	Brighter Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avidfangirllife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidfangirllife/gifts).



> You've been telling to read these books me for years and I finally did! This is what happens now - fluffy fix-it because the unresolved angst is unacceptable. 
> 
> Title from Daylight, because it's me (see above re: no angst).

Cassian closes the door to their home with a grateful sigh. He’s early for once, and he wonders if he might surprise Nesta with dinner. Time is a rare gift, as he knows all too well, and he’s determined not to squander a single second. His long legs carry him upstairs quickly, and he pushes open the bathroom door without a second thought, meaning to tell her to take a few extra minutes for herself.

But the words stick in his throat, his smile fading at the rigid line of Nesta’s shoulders over the lip of the enormous bathtub. Even with her back to him, he knows something isn’t right.

“Nes?” He asks softly. When she doesn’t answer, he ventures a step closer, and then another, until he’s standing beside the tub. The water floats just above her ankles; her knees are drawn tightly to her chest, arms bound tightly around them. 

“Did something happen during training today?” His voice is still quiet, but her eyes finally meet his, and he knows she sees the barely contained rage rising within him, all the ways he considers shredding whoever _dared_ try--

“No,” Nesta says, and his fury subsides, if for a moment.

Cassian holds her gaze for a few more seconds, then nods. She’ll tell him when she’s ready. He kneels on the floor and reaches past her. “At least fill the tub, you’ll never get clean with just--”

“No!” Her hand flies out to grip his wrist. Cassian stills, his fingers hovering inches from the faucet. The unadulterated fear in her voice knocks the breath from him. He’d thought - hoped - they were long past keeping secrets. The thought that she’s still trying to go it alone pains him beyond words. 

Slowly, he withdraws his hand, but she doesn’t let go of him, her fingers shifting until they’re clasped with his. Her grip is crushing. “No more water,” she says, and he looks up. 

Nesta once promised him she’d stop hiding, and she holds true to her word even now. Although she doesn’t say more, her face wears the truth of the old encounter that still haunts her from time to time. Cassian’s pain morphs into guilt. Now he understands why she’s kept this to herself for as long as she has. Nesta knows too well the burden he carries.

She hasn’t been keeping a secret at all - she’s been trying to spare him, knowing it’ll only add to the mountain of guilt atop his shoulders. 

She squeezes his hand. “It’s a bad day,” she says firmly. “That’s all.”

Cassian doesn’t need her to tell him there have been plenty already, and there will be more in the future. He bows his head to their joined hands, for once unable to form words. Eventually he becomes aware of her other hand soothing through his hair, and he touches his lips to her knuckles in response. He sits with her the rest of the night.

They don’t speak of it the next morning, but Cassian can’t stop thinking about it, so he rearranges his day - _delegates,_ as his brother loves to say - and gets home first. Which is why when Nesta wearily trudges in that evening, she finds him standing next to the bathtub, a small box of soaps and washcloths sitting on the floor next to him.

“Do you know why this tub is built so large?” He drawls. Nesta’s eyes fly to his, pretending she wasn’t inspecting the height of the water. The fact that she hasn’t already turned and fled gives him a small measure of hope.

"I assume you're going to tell me," she finally says, and because the bite is back in her words, Cassian grins and preens a little.

“To fit Illyrian wings.” 

Nesta raises a single eyebrow. “Is that so.”

“It is,” he says gallantly. “Shall I demonstrate?”

She crosses her arms across her chest and waits. His grin widening, Cassian strips. He steps into the bathtub, looking purposefully at the ankle-deep water and then back to Nesta, who tilts her head.

“You can add more, if you’d like.” She swallows when he doesn’t move. “To your knees,” she says gratefully. 

After the water rises to his knees and not an inch higher, Cassian sits with a small sigh, purposely ignoring the soft footfalls towards the tub until he’s done adjusting his wings. Nesta is just a few steps away. 

He waves a hand in front of him. “Care to join?”

Her eyeroll is expected, but the brief upturn of her lips makes his heart leap into his throat. She disrobes easily and without fuss, a fact that occasionally gives him headaches - mostly when they’re around others - but otherwise has his admiration. Everything from Nesta is earned, not given, and so when she places her hand in his and steps into the tub, it’s all the more satisfying. 

She stands in the water for longer than he did, and he doesn’t say anything, just waits and watches as she steels herself. Her spine isn’t quite as stiff or straight as the day before, yet she lowers herself down with a white-knuckled grip on the tub. Her knees curl against her chest again, and though she has her back to him, her head turns as if making sure he’s still there. Cassian’s heart twists. Reaching for a washcloth, he wrings it in the water and gently touches her shoulder. 

“May I?”

Her answered “yes” is barely above a whisper, but it’s enough.

Cassian keeps his touch light, every sweep of the cloth a caress against her skin, a silent apology and renewed vow, and if his hand shakes now and then she’s good enough not to comment on it. 

The water is cold when he’s done, but Nesta inches back until there’s no gap between them and her head falls to his shoulder. His wings surround them until she’s asleep in his arms.

The following day he arrives home late in a foul mood, and it takes all his willpower not to storm right back out and show his idiot captains who’s really in charge. When he gets upstairs, though, he knows he’s made the right decision; Nesta hovers at the bathroom entrance, still in her own muddy training leathers. 

This time they take turns undressing each other, simply for the joy of touch. Nesta traces the lines on his face, lingering at the pinch in his brow and an older scar by his mouth until he turns and presses a kiss to her palm. Once they’re settled in the bath, she inquires about his day. Cassian doesn’t intend it, but his frustrations pour out, and when he finishes he wonders at just how much was roiling within him, and how poorly that dam might have broken otherwise. And Nesta - she’d seen it, and she’d known, too. 

He puts the washcloth aside and kisses the base of her neck in thanks. Encouraged by her small hum, he continues pressing kisses down her spine until her shivers make her reach back and grip his knee in silent demand, and he carries her to bed.

The next night, Nesta positions them so that he’s seated in front of her, and this time he’s the one shaking with restraint and gripping the sides of the tub by the time she’s done trailing the washcloth over his wings. He can feel Nesta’s smile when she kisses his shoulder, and afterwards she winds her arms around his waist, careful of his wings, and presses her cheek to his back. 

They settle into a pattern each night the following week. Sometimes he tells her of Rhys and Az, their first meeting and all those that followed; of Rhys’ mother and her kindness. If the water level climbs an inch or two higher some days, Nesta doesn’t comment. Occasionally he coaxes a story from her, usually involving Elain and an even rarer one about Feyre, but Nesta seems to take the most pleasure in working through the camp struggles alongside him. 

At first Cassian thinks it’s a desire to focus on anything but the past, until he realizes what’s driving her is a sharp need to be useful, to build a better future - using intelligence and skills she’s had since long before the Cauldron interfered. After that, he begins to share his challenges and frustrations with purpose - knowing she won’t hesitate to counter him if needed, but also knowing that she brings a perspective that is sorely needed in this world.

One night, Cassian returns home thinking about a situation from earlier in the afternoon that Nesta would certainly have an opinion on - only to have all thoughts fly from his brain the moment he makes it upstairs.

As usual, Nesta is waiting by the bath. This time, though, her clothes are already gone, and it's that combined with the determined gleam in her eyes and the wicked curl of her lips that makes his mouth go dry. 

“I wonder,” she says, running a finger along the edge of the tub, “what else do you think this tub is built for?”

Cassian’s grin is little more than a baring of teeth in answer to the challenge that lights up her face.

“Let’s find out.”


End file.
